


Living Too Fast, Too Slow

by bold_seer



Category: Lost
Genre: Groundhog Day, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bold_seer/pseuds/bold_seer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All that time-skipping can’t have been good for the brain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Too Fast, Too Slow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/gifts).



It’s not like Miles isn’t familiar with the improbable, or the highly unlikely. Weird stuff has gravitated towards him as long as he can remember. But lately their lives have become so mundane that he doesn’t even _notice_ it at first.

They wake up every morning thinking, what the hell are they going do with the rest of their lives, but they’ve settled into some routines by now. Richard’s sipping coffee and flipping through a newspaper, and that’s business as usual. The reading glasses suit him, emphasise his gravity and seriousness, while being strangely charming.

But then, Sawyer says something about _a bona fide Dharma breakfast_ , and it’s like they’re following a lazy, predictable script, because Miles already knows Richard’s next line before he speaks it. And his own, because he’s already had this conversation.

The thing is, he remembers the past few weeks. Leaving the island and landing _somewhere_ , in a rush of relief. Kate and Claire going off to raise their kid. Miles remembers yesterday, what takeout he had in about, oh, six hours. Remembers today, which is apparently still yesterday – or the other way around. Crazy, huh.

Whatever happens on the island stays on the island, but all that time-skipping can’t have been good for the brain.

Miles sleeps the rest of the day. He’s seen the movie. 

…

Frank comes and goes, as Frank likes to do. And Sawyer, damn him, mopes about most of the time. Not without his reasons, of course; in cheesy tv language, Juliet touched all their lives. He starts talking to Richard, who is pretty cool for being two centuries old, give or take. Sometimes he thinks about Hurley. Does Richard even know what Groundhog Day is?

One day – except it’s always the same day, and obviously the universe has a warped enough sense of humour to fixate on a regular Tuesday – Miles asks, out of the blue: “Was Jacob lonely?” _Were you?_

“Not sure I ever asked.” Richard's voice is curiously blank.

 _He had you_ , Miles almost says. Bites his lip. It's a stupid thought after all.

“What did you do, with all that time? When you didn’t walk about, scaring the crap out of the Dharma Initiative.” He'd been peeking from behind the blinds at the smouldering fire in the dark. “Or tie us all up.” 

“Ah, fifty years ago? For me, I should say. But to answer your question: build a ship in a bottle. Read Dostoyevsky. Observe, guide, learn – when you’re used to it, time passes more quickly than you know.”

“Or slower,” Miles mutters, mostly to himself. 

Richard quirks his eyebrows. “That’s right.”

…

Eight days in, Miles slips up completely, says something he can’t possible know by today-today.

Richard’s eyes are dark, alert and watchful. “Have we had this exact same conversation?” 

“Tell me you remember –”

“I don’t,” Richard shakes off the sense of déjà vu immediately. “I don't know why I said that.” It's like something’s finally unsettled him. Something that should be set right.

With Kate and Claire gone, they’re missing an Andie MacDowell.

So Miles does something awkward and unexpected, and kisses Richard instead.

… 

But he wakes up again, _again_ , and wants to scream out in frustration. 

He remembers the deceased but not so dearly departed. And the cons. Maybe this is hell, he thinks before he closes his eyes again. 

…

It’s day sixteen, and Richard’s not at breakfast. “Old man ain’t up yet”, Sawyer quips, but there's a sense of unease in Miles' stomach. He’s lived today over a dozen times, but never like this.

Richard’s bedroom is upstairs. Miles knocks before entering; the lights are off and Richard lies on his bed, fully clothed, wearing a dress shirt and all. But then, when is he not? Not exactly one for wearing clothes like Miles’ own tee-shirt and hoodie, though it’s an interesting mental image.

“Miles,” Richard croaks. He pushes himself up with his elbows. Do former immortals get sick? When they’ve been well for the past fifteen days in a time loop? Dan would know, explain the situation through advanced physics, and Charlotte would – if Miles had known he’d end up missing this many people. 

_What if I told you that I wake up and it’s the same day every day? Literally the same day over and over again. Stupid regular Tuesday, when nothing happens._

“Jacob’s gift. Curse. Being stuck, while everything else moves around you.” Richard looks a little feverish, but his voice grows steadier with every word. “I didn’t want to die, when I first arrived on the island. I was scared of death. Then I didn’t want to live. And then you looked at me, and I _did_ , but now I’m stuck again. I remember things, but I can’t even remember when they happened. Yesterday, or -”

And he knows, Miles knows. Everything fades away eventually, even the last thoughts he picks up, the echoes of the dead. But now they've found themselves in a bubble of time, him and Richard. “It’s not that bad,” he tries. “Being stuck with you.” Clichéd, but okay.

Richard’s smile is sudden, startlingly lively and beautiful. Lights up the room, and _that’s_ clichéd, but it’s true. “All right,” he says.

…

Start again. Alone, together.


End file.
